The Invisible Sociopaths

Back in February 2010 I had the occasion to be duped and fell in with a sociopath. Though it was unbeknownst to me at the time.
To back-track a little, I had a very uncomfortable nervous breakdown in October of 09. I'd been driving a cab in Canberra and combined being sledged and my property vandalized by another! sociopath (he's a well know ex-rugby union player for a very well known local team in Canberra) who, found it impossible to tolerate someone who read books and was a bit of a scribbler and didn't own a telly. Still don't.
Anyway he managed to run me out of town. I ended up in Ballarat.
The Ballarat sociopath and I met in the carpark at church one Sunday morning. That's right at church. It turns out he was ex-communicated from the church because he's lied through the back of his teeth about having a long bonking connection with some female; who was happy to be bonking another woman's husband. And yes, she's a member of the church also.

Anyway, he gives me this long-lost-brotherly hug and combined with the fact I'd had this break-down some months earlier and having Aspergers doesn't help my discernment much; I was entirely blind-sided. But I felt like an artificially inseminated cow; I knew something had occured but I couldn't figure out what it was.

Time went by and he buttered me up properly, acting all nice and friendly like. And of course in this matter I couldn't see daylight through a ladder. As luck would have it I had to move out of where I was and he so gallantly offered me to stay at his joint (and I use the term advisedly) rent free of course.

After a three weeks or so there was a distinct line drawn in the sand. We went from the blokey, jovial flat-mates to this weird, dark scenario. He stood on me for money and when I didn't poney-up, as Charlie Sheen would say, it seemed the trigger for his behaviour that was to follow. But I think this whole thing was a throw back to Bendigo when I knew him then via church. He had a sneering, jeering contempt for me then but of course I didn't get it (I know, I know, I should've!) plus I was dealing with another fire-fight involving the creature to whom I was allegedly married. (Do you know what it feels like never to be spoken to; unless you speak? It doesn't have good results). I digress.
This sociopath then took on himself to basically destroy what was left of my fragile stability. He vandalized nearly everything I possessed. But here's the thing; it was done in the most subtle and almost unseen manner. Scratches all over my car, urinated on it also. Stole my prescrition glasses, cash and sundry items out of the car.
Damaged a number of articles of clothing. Urinated on clean washing. Sabotaged my paper-shredder and had to chuch that out.. Disabled the car on two occasions that,  as luck would have it, neighbours were able to get me mobile again.
Destroyed all of the files on my computer. Locked it down with another password. (He's big-time in the software manipulation area) wiped out all my writing for the last eight years. He replace all my Word files with two things; a chocolate mouse recipe and a how to pro-forma job application. 62 documents gone.

He never missed an occasion to insult, denigrate or humiliate me. I must give him credit he did it so well. His present squeeze must be so proud that this is the father of her child.

The thing that really hurt the most was my second draft of Barneemar also was stolen/destroyed. A story about a writer who couldn't write very well (a bit like me) gets mistakenly kidnapped by Russian agents who thought he was an MI6 operative. Good laugh. I think it's got legs. But it will take six months, I don't know, to re-do it. Who knows.

The money and time, plus the fact I had to flee Bacchus Marsh where I'd moved; to get a bit further away from him (but he tracked me down via church records and had made about a dozen or fifteen, nightly visits to tap on the wire trellis or thump on the back fence outside the window and other noises to spook me out come more). When I sprung him one night at two am I rang the coppers to report it. But when I told the manager of the flats what had happened, he told me to get out.
No worries.

I applied for a Stalking Intervention Order and had a hearing on June 7th. The Magistrate said he didn't have time to hear it so he held it over till July 18th; tomorrow. But I've pulled the plug. I won't be there.
I sent a fax to the Magistrate explaining my fears at the repercussions. Besides that, as my mate Les said, someon like that wouldn't take any notice of a piece of paper from the court. Knowing my luck I could end up having a summons to court in Ballarat. Could be interesting.

I've become wonderfully paranoid. Getting startled at noises during the night and checking the car too much for further damage. Plus the worry of whether he'll show up and start the death-by-a-thousand-cuts thing again.

And isn't this interesting; I feel as though I'm the perpetrator here. It has been a wonderfully successful campaign on his part. Even to the point of me being on the precipice of suicide back in March and April of this year. And all of this from an ex-Bishop of the church. Someone who was very 'fit and proper' and telling everyone they should 'keep the commandments'' and yet he was running quite a juicy bit on the side.
He got kicked out ot the church and had to leave his home and family. And had to leave Bendigo in disgrace. And ended up in a $120 a week flat in Ballarat. You can always tell (yeah, I know, I didn't) someone by their surroundings. This place stank and it was dirty. And on reflection, painted a clear picture of him. Dirty, untidy and very scattered. 

There was a lot I learned about myself. I didn't retaliate. I feel sad for him because this is how he really is inside his heart and mind. Plus, part of the tragedy of it is he hasn't learnt much as a parent of his two sons by his first marriage. And the new accident of a son has a father who spent an inordinate amount of time trawling through someone else's personal writings etc rather that looking after his parental responsibilities.

But a clinical narcissist cum sociopath wouldn't give that sort of thing a second thought while he's obsessed with his mission of torment and bullying.

So, finally, I just wanted you to know how I felt after this marathon of sadistic abuse.

I feel mentally and emotionally sodomized.